


No Man Is An Island

by verovex



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, First Christmas, Freakfam Jamboree, M/M, Oswald Revisits His Grief, S3 Divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 23:21:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13134315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verovex/pseuds/verovex
Summary: Oswald takes on a variation of the Gotham Grinch, and Ed tries to find a way to fix it.





	No Man Is An Island

Oswald hadn’t thought much of Christmas, or the holidays until it bled over Gotham in the embodiment of a red and green apocalypse.

December First came in like a wrecking ball over City Hall, every high ceiling, railing, marble column, and even the damn out-of-service sign on the elevator were covered in festive garland. Oswald’s trek had him stopped there, on the first floor, looking down at the sign as if it were decorated just to entice a tantrum.

A familiar tremble of irritation forces a twirl on his heel, attempting to locate Tarquin Stemmel, who would’ve been the source of the Holiday regurgitation in his alternative duties as Events Coordinator.

Instead he finds his disposition entirely subdued as Edward enters his field of view, looking equally perturbed by the overnight transformation.

“What happened here?” Edward mutters. “Terrible day to forget your cane at home, I suppose.”

Edward outstretches his arm towards Oswald, prompting him to take it. It takes a few seconds for Oswald to cave, but eventually he does, lacing his arm around Ed’s. It’s a slow venture up the stairs, nothing that he couldn’t have done on his own, but it gives him and Ed time to converse, and these were really the only minutes they could indulge in displays of affection in public.

“Do you want me to have Stemmel remove the decorations?” Ed asks, once they’re outside the Mayor’s office.

“No, I’m sure that’ll only serve to antagonize the staff.”

It seems fitting that they’d just had a conversation the night before about _what_ they wanted to do over the holidays, the first one spent with the other. Edward had disclosed he hadn’t grown up on the importance of Holidays, wouldn’t even know where to start on how to celebrate Christmas, but was willing to adopt Oswald’s preferences.

On the other hand, Oswald had been privy to his mother’s glorification of the holiday, with her inconsistent trend of practices each time. Oswald had survived through years of his mother’s need for Holiday splendor, amassing a myriad of items year over year, as they’d never been able to afford the collection outright.

That collection, along with every photo album, and his mother’s antiquities, had gone up in flames shortly after her passing. The fire had no doubt been set by Galavan, to cement the seismic loss in Oswald’s already fractured state.

The first Christmas after her murder he’d spent in Arkham, Miss Peabody particularly intent on delivering a higher voltage than normal, one that left him comatose the rest of the day. He’d been somewhat grateful for the reprieve.

As it stood, in twenty-four days, it would be his second Christmas without her, and he found himself thinking Arkham would be more enjoyable than parades and touring schools in Santa getups.

He resolves to locking himself up in his office on the days he didn’t need to leave the building, wishing he could work from home, where at least he could control how much holiday cheer he wanted to endure.

He wasn’t ignorant to his staff talking about his lack of enthusiasm while reluctantly participating in Gotham’s annual Mayoral float, even Edward had been able to flash a smile for the press.

Ed had _tried_ to hide the newspaper the next morning, but had forgotten the one delivered to his desk. Gotham Gazette headlined his frown with the title: ‘ _T_ _he Gotham Grinch._ ’

He spent the remainder of the week at home, Edward sidelining outings and interviews for the New Year instead, as well as taking Oswald’s place in any pertinent meetings – underworld included.

After the article had been released, the only day he decided to grace the city with his presence was the afternoon he spent at Stoker Cemetery, reminiscing of the days he’d come home to a house littered with colour, wondering if it was a mistake to not honour his mother’s traditions.

Christmas Eve was too late to shop for decorations, so he heaved a sigh, lighting a cigarette in the town car on the ride back to the mansion.

The last thing he’d expected to come home to was Edward balancing himself and a string of flashing icicles on a ladder, being held in place by Zsasz and Ivy. He slams the car door shut, feet meeting snow as he approaches the group.

“What sort of phenomenon explains why we’re the only ones with snow?” Oswald calls out, nearly sending Edward off the ladder in shock.

“You’re not supposed to be back yet,” Edward decides is the best response, setting the lights on installed hooks, and making his way down the ladder. Zsasz and Ivy vacate the area without command, the bells on their Santa hats already annoying Oswald as they moved. Ed looks sheepish, maneuvering to crowd the small distance between them. “I know you said no decorations, but…”

Oswald finds his mouth agape, the house having seen a massive overhaul, and he’d only left _three hours ago_. A full-size Christmas tree stood in the entranceway of the mansion, as well as one in the living room, and every inch of the home was decked in some variation of green and purple. He’s not livid, feels almost _sad_ that he hadn’t been able to contribute.

“I thought we could start our own tradition.” Ed’s voice invades his thoughts, his arms wrapping themselves around Oswald’s waist, chin perched on his shoulder. “I think she would’ve wanted this for you.”

“She would’ve.” Oswald admits, realizing it even more as they spend dinner in a happy haze with Ivy, both Victors, Fish, Selina, Firefly, and feeling as if his mother was right there too.

His gaze connects with Ed across from him, laughing full-heartedly at a comment made by Fish, and he feels overwhelmed with adoration and appreciation for everything Edward continued to bring to his life; could’ve sworn he could hear his mother in his ear, telling him she wouldn’t have left him with any other family than the one he had now.

**Author's Note:**

> This will be my second Christmas after losing one of my parents, so I felt like it was fitting to write. I always feel like grief is such a massive part of Oswald's life, especially after losing both his parents, perhaps 1k wasn't enough to dive into it, but ehh.  
> Merry Christmas / Happy Holidays ~


End file.
